


Blended vanilla cappuccino, nonfat with whip

by glovered



Series: When It Was You & Me [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Best Friends, Coffee Shops, F/F, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3213299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glovered/pseuds/glovered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bela works at Cloud Grind, a coffee shop outpost during an intergalactic war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blended vanilla cappuccino, nonfat with whip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [necrora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/necrora/gifts).



Bela hadn't expected to ever escape eternity in the Pit. Souls sent to Hell stayed in Hell. But after a couple of centuries downstairs, command changed, and suddenly it was all hands topside for the fight. She now spent her evenings pouring out espresso for an endless queue of angelic soldiers rather than writhing in soul-wrenching agony on the rack. It was arguably the better deal. 

Just how the angels had gotten Earth involved in an intergalactic war was really none of her concern. From what Bela gathered, there had been some sort of takeover. Heaven had gained the upper hand, and with it, the ability to use damned souls as free labor. And she couldn't be too upset about it. Working in a coffee shop outpost in Earth's upper stratosphere was miles better than the first option. It meant less physical torture than rotting in Hell, mental anguish caused by customer service notwithstanding. 

That didn't stop any of her colleagues from complaining about it, though.

"I still can't believe we spend hours slaving away making coffee for angels," Jo grumbled, stacking cups next to her. " _Angels_."

"Coffee _and_ tea," Bela pointed out, wiping the milk steamer in one efficient motion and tossing the rag into a bin next to the sink.

"Once a Brit, always a Brit," Crowley sing-songed as he passed behind them in his apron. He swept some spilled bone detritus that was used in holiday lattes into the dust pan. Crowley was the lowest on the totem pole and always would be, as per the boss's orders. Abaddon seemed to have some sort of beef with him, and part of Bela thought Crowley wanted out of the coffee shop almost as much as she did.

"And that creep Zachariah gets hot chocolate," Jo pointed out, then lowered her voice to tell Bela, "He's really sleazy."

"They all are. Just keep your head down and don't catch their attention," Bela said as she steamed milk for the next drink to perfection. The shop was crazily busy with soldiers who frequented the coffee outpost, averaging three customers a minute with no table left unoccupied. The snow outside piled high against the windows and customers stamped in endless wet footprints for Bela to mop up. Abaddon would be pissed if their chatting stopped them from doing their jobs.

She poured the milk into a takeaway cup, then sunk two shots of espresso into the foam.

Raphael stood waiting at the counter. Bela served him his drink with her head held high, but she was careful to place the cup gently down without spilling a drop. Bela held her breath in spite of herself and tried to sink back into the woodwork. Her drinks were nothing short of perfect, everyone knew it, but just last week Raphael had smited a barista for only slightly over-steaming his cappuccino.

Raphael opened the visor of his armored mecha helmet to take a testing sip.

"Heavenly," he declared in sultry tones, and then clunked out the door in his red armor, the tables and chairs he passed quaking with his every step.

Bela only allowed herself an eyeroll after the door had shut behind him with a jingle of Christmas bells.

"I'll need you on register, darling," Meg said from her elbow.

Bela arched an eyebrow. "Me? Really?"

"Yes, really. Jo's gone off again to who knows where, and the line's nearly out the door."

Sure enough, the line of angels queueing up was getting restless. And when angels got bored and restless, only Hell would pay.

Which was why Cloud Grind was perpetually understaffed. 

Meg held Bela in place with a mere thought. "Remember what Abaddon told you, Talbot...The cameras will catch you if you try to filch anything from the register again."

"Don't worry, I've got better things to do than pilfer a few pennies," Bela sneered, and turned to the next customer.

Uriel was at the front of the line, wearing a hulking mecha suit of his own, one that protected angelic soldiers from enemy fire and enabled them to withstand lightspeed travel. It was a deep blue and frightening.

"Double shot over ice," he intoned, because although he was very formidable, he was also a cheap-ass who just added the milk and sugar himself, instead of paying the — ok, somewhat exorbitant — menu price for an iced latte.

Bela passed a cup off to Meg and turned to the next angel.

"Yeah, I'm here to return a packet of nuts I bought," Gadreel said, looking very perturbed. "It said they were salted, but I've had more salt lapping up the tears of humanity."

"We at Cloud Grind honor all refunds," Bela said through her teeth. She handed him another packet of nuts and took his almost finished one from his gloved hand. "You enjoy the rest of your day."

"Honestly, when I was king, this never would have happened," Crowley muttered to her.

Abaddon came out of nowhere, looming up behind him. "Go grind more beans, wretch."

Crowley bowed low. "Yes, your gingerness."

"Welcome to Cloud Grind," said Bela to the next customer. "Where all your drinks are as hot as the sun—"

But the words died on her lips. She saw only now that the soldier at the front of the line was nothing short of radiant, whether by some trick of the warm coffee shop lights or due to an inner grace.

It was Anna, hottest angel in any of the garrisons. The light shone off her glossy red hair and her dark lashes fanned like daisies as she read from the menu on the wall. Her mouth was pink as it formed words.

"Pardon?" Bela was forced to ask, having been temporarily blown away by Anna's gleaming presence. She'd always been easy for a pretty face.

"I was saying, my drink order is long so you might want to write it down." Anna frowned. "You look ill."

"Oh, it was the light," Bela said. "It shone off of your golden chest plate. Temporary blindness, nothing to worry about."

"I polish it to stun enemies," Anna explained with a note of apology in her melodic voice.

If this had been any other angel, Bela's poor service would have been cause to duck behind the bulletproof counter or dive for the nearest exit. But then she would have found herself out in the Godforsaken snow.

"It's lovely, your chest plate," Bela explained.

"I like your necklace," Anna told her in kind, and Bela's hand jumped to the tarnished locket that hung at her throat.

"Thanks," she said, tucking it behind her shirt. She picked up a paper cup and a pen. "What are you having?"

"Blended vanilla cappuccino, nonfat with whip. I'd also like toffee sprinkles and raspberry shot."

Bela pretended to write this down but drew hearts instead. She'd memorized Anna's order long ago. "Coming right up," she said.

Crowley reached for the cup but Bela hid it behind her back and said, "I'll take this one." At his shrewd look, she said, "It's complicated."

"I can handle complicated!" Crowley scoffed. 

Bela scooped fresh whipped cream and drizzled raspberry syrup atop the drink with care, thinking that whatever the reason was that Anna wanted a cold drink in this frigid weather, it was obviously down to some extreme inner strength.

 

 

 

On the chain around her neck was a locket, and inside the locket was a seed. The seed had been procured by one of the slimier dealers in Hell's underworld, and Bela had paid handsomely for it.

The seed was unique, incredibly powerful and nearly impossible to come by. It was also Bela's one-way ticket out of this place. When conditions were right, she would plant it, but not until she was completely sure, when the chance of success was one hundred percent.

One morning, this plan became not just a dream, but a real possibility. Abaddon had called a store meeting, and Bela stood in the group of sulking and frightened employees, sceptical about there being any news that could bode well for them.

"We have a new position opening up," Abaddon said, surprising them all. She followed up with, "Outside of Cloud Grind."

Bela's dead heart stopped in her chest, eyes instantly seeking out Jo's blonde hair in the crowd. But Jo was nowhere to be seen. 

"What?" Ruby asked, eyes gleaming with lust. "Leave the shop?"

"Yes," Abaddon said. "We've received word from command that they need a barista at the front lines. One of you will be chosen based on exemplary behavior and general subservience to Heaven. That means no more no more blaspheming, no more slacking, and especially no more sulphur in the Kombucha. I'm looking at you, Alastair."

Alastair's mouth curled.

Bela knew well enough not to get her hopes up. All the other demons' eyes were shining with longing, the fools. But even so, her metaphorical chains felt suddenly heavy and obvious. Her hand went to the locket.

The conversation had reached a frenzied pitch to the point that Abaddon had to shout to make herself heard.

"Ok, that's it, minions! Back to work!"

The crowd scattered, and Bela spotted Anna coming in through the glass doors, a familiar silhouette against the bright, snowy landscape.

If she was going to get that position on the front lines — and she _would_ get that position — it was best to start working on the one angel who held her in somewhat good graces. 

"I've got the till," she said, interrupting Abaddon's discussion with Ruby.

Abaddon pursed her lips. But she didn't immediately send her to bag tea, so that was something.

"You have shown remarkable progress," she said after considering the request. And Bela had to remind herself that snorting in disdain did not a brown-noser make. "So I suppose you may take over until Jo shows up. Honestly, that girl is quick as a anything but takes the longest time to do her hair."

"Is that what she said she was doing?" Bela muttered.

Abaddon gave her a stern look. "You're something like friends, see if you can get her to shape up. God knows if _you_ could be molded to Heaven's will, a two-bit hunter child can be."

The mention of who Jo had been was jarring to Bela, for more reasons than she'd like to remember. She and Jo had known each other before, it was true. They'd had a thing going, once — Bela shamelessly using trickery to see if she could pull Jo out of small town Nebraska, and Jo countering her one for one. A game of cat and mouse.

That all seemed very long ago now, in the grand scheme of things.

"I'll see what I can do," Bela lied, and went to suck up to the one angel who might give her a chance.

Bela had never seen Anna smile, but the look of recognition in Anna's eyes when Bela came to the register was nice. She could work with that.

"I came by to pick up a—" Anna started.

"The usual, right? No need to repeat it, I have it memorised," Bela said, and gave her a wink.

Anna blinked back. "Oh, that's very kind of you."

As Bela wrote the drinks order on the cup with flourish and then turned to ring Anna up, she said, casually, "I heard that some soldiers were looking for a barista to take with them to the front lines."

Anna nodded. "Our garrison is advancing further away from this part of the galaxy."

Bela felt a pang at this new information. She hadn't known it would be Anna's garrison, which meant that one of the only glimmers of good feeling in Bela's day would soon be gone. On the other hand, Bela had even more of an in this way.

"You know Michael," Anna continued. "He has a caffeine addiction the size of Antarctica, so we need a barista on hand to help him keep his temper."

"Well," Bela said, and leaned against the counter to say in an intimate tone, "Tell me if you'd like to see my references. I'd love to see more of you."

Anna looked almost interested, Bela thought, but she only said, "Thank you for the drink," and left.

"All right," she heard Abaddon say down the counter. "Can someone find me Harvelle?"

Bela claimed the right to find her before Ruby could, not only to show the boss she was putting in more than what was asked of her, but also because Ruby was a backstabber and wouldn't hesitate to turn Jo in. Not that Bela could blame her.

Bela passed off the register to Meg, and pushed through the swinging doors to find Jo sitting on one of the sacks of coffee beans, hands clasped over one knee, cheeks flushed.

"You all right?" Bela asked, looking at the way Jo's sleeves were rolled up and her hair was tousled. She wondered if Jo was having a torrid affair with a colleague, but she knew that the only person who'd been back there recently was Crowley, and that wasn't worth speculating about.

"Totally fine," Jo said, and caught the croissant mid-air when Bela tossed it to her. "Sweet!" 

So much for amending her old ways.

Jo moaned around a mouthful. "If I'd have known your thievery would have come in handy in the afterlife, I would never have given you such a hard time about it on Earth."

Then you wouldn't have been you, Bela almost told her.

But it didn't do to dwell on life. "So messy," she chided instead, as flakes of croissant began to dust Jo's dark trousers. "Let's not let on that we've been nipping the pastries."

Jo nodded, but then froze, looking Bela over. "You're smiling," she said slowly. Her eyes widened and she said with some horror, "Are you...happy?"

"Happy?" Bela scoffed.

Jo continued eating her croissant. "Right. Happiness is for suckers."

They finished up quickly and Bela thought about telling her to shape up. "Did you hear there's a position opening up outside of Cloud Grind?"

"Yeah, I heard," Jo said, not seeming overly excited by the idea of something more like freedom.

This enraged Bela, and she tried to tell herself it was because of Jo's insouciance rather than out of worry for someone who had once been like a friend to her. Maybe more. "Abaddon's been asking me about you," she said. "She thinks you're being a slacker. But I know you're a hard worker. What's up?"

"Aw, you care about me."

"Shut up, no I don't," Bela said, and ignored Jo's soft look.

Jo sighed. "Nothing's up. It just sucks here, is all. But I have a plan."

"What plan?"

"Nothing for you to worry about yet," Jo said.

Bela didn't ask. She had her own plans. Ones that couldn't be jeopardized.

When they went back out together, Bela saw that Anna had stayed in the shop. She'd taken a small table by one of the windows, her helmet on the seat next to her, coffee at her hand.

She was reading a paper, and the idea of taking time for such simple pleasures was alien to Bela. 

"Hey," Jo said. She'd obviously noticed Bela's glance, and her voice was worried when she said, " _Bela_."

It was the first time in recent decades Bela could remember Jo calling her by name. 

"It's none of your concern," Bela said.

"You fucking her or something?"

Bela turned to glare but Jo filled in the blanks anyway.

"But you want to," she said.

Bela snorted. "Probably couldn't get her out of that suit if I took a crowbar to it," she said.

"Awkward," Jo agreed. "Well, I hope you know what you're doing."

"I'm just using her as a one-way ticket out of here." And when she was out, she would be one step closer to breaking free for good.

"Ok, ok," Jo said. "I just don't want to see you get your heart broken."

The idea was so ludicrous Bela laughed. "Oh darling, I don't have a heart."

Jo rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. And what kind of stupid plan is that anyway? You'd be on the front lines. At the very least, she'll just use you as a sex slave. They're kinky bastards, watch out."

Bela scoffed, but then paused as Jo's words sunk in. Visions of what sort of kinky Jo could be referring to flashed in her mind before she said, "No, they're not...are they?"

Jo gave her an obnoxiously knowing look, leaning back on elbows and sipping at the straw of an iced vanilla latte she'd grabbed off the counter. 

"Like you're one to talk, anyway," Bela said.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Bela went to wash her hands, giving her a cheery look that she knew would piss Jo right off, but then winced at the first hit of holy water from the tap.

 

 

 

 

Anna didn't come into the shop for the next week, but during that time, there was a noticeable pick-up in efficiency at Cloud Grind. Demons were on their best behavior, such as it was, and Bela thought maybe she should begin buttering up other angels, not just the glorious and respectable ones.

The times seemed to be changing. There were more angels at the shop, the line winding out into the bright, cold snowscape. 

"The battle is indeed glorious," was all Michael told her when she noted this, a scary vacancy behind his eyes. He tugged the golden chain he'd affixed around his brother's throat. "Come along, Lucifer." 

Lucifer looked very pleased to follow direction.

"Kinky," Bela breathed, remembering Jo's words.

"Pardon?" Michael said, even as Lucifer flicked his tongue at her.

"Nothing," Bela said.

Meg was on bar, but thankfully took her break just as Anna stepped up to the counter. Meg, like most demons, couldn't be trusted, and Bela was almost certain her interest in Anna shone too clear to anyone looking for it.

"Any news on that barista position?" Bela asked as she input Anna's drink on the old machine. A button stuck and she slammed her palm against the side, before grinning at Anna as if she hadn't just nearly broken company equipment. "I have an impeccable record, you know, and I'm a team player."

Anna considered her for a moment, before asking, "Why do you want to go to the front lines?"

"To serve Heaven," Bela said by rote. "What other reason would there be?"

"I see."

Bela waited while Anna seemed to formulate what she had to say.

"Perhaps it isn't in anyone's best interest," Anna said, low, and at first Bela thought she'd misheard. That kind of talk could get even Abaddon killed if it got out, let alone a small-time demon like Bela. Anna touched her hand briefly with a warning look in her eyes as she passed Bela her Cloud Grind punch card, and then Bela was sure what she was implying.

"Right," Bela said, glancing to the angel behind Anna in line, but Bartholomew seemed too intent flirting with Balthazar to listen to their conversation.

"Surely I don't know what you mean," she said, and Anna nodded once when Bela chanced to look at her again. She passed Anna a pastry from the case, even though she hadn't ordered one.

Anna left without another word.

Bela felt ill at ease for the rest of the day. All of the angels she'd met seemed to either blindly follow orders, or were obnoxiously righteous. But Anna was neither. Even if Anna was in some way less than loyal to Heaven, the moment she and Bela had shared could very well get Bela killed.

"Why aren't you trying for the position?" Bela asked Abaddon, around three o'clock, during the afternoon lull.

Abaddon touched a finger to her lips, and Bela saw suddenly the human she might have once been. 

"And face all that snow?" she asked, looking out the far windows. Then, she seemed to shake herself out of some reverie. "No, pet. The ice would ruin my makeup. Now run along."

Bela made a round through the shop, gathering the crumpled napkins that littered the floor, taking the rag from her apron pocket and wiping down the tables along the wall. She stepped briefly aside so that Hael could dump two half-full cups of pumpkin spice lattes into the overflowing bin. Bela watched them teeter and then tip sideways to drip onto the floor. No matter how much she cleaned, this place was always a mess. Angels weren't exactly responsible consumers.

While she was picking up straw wrappers from the table closest to the front door, a chill crept down her spine. She looked to the glass doors, one of which had been left ajar just enough to let snowflakes in. It was powdering out, a deceptively festive white falling just outside the glow of the shop. Bela had to look away very quickly, because the snow was so bright and endless. She felt an anticipation looking at the desolate landscape, and something like fear. 

She had all good intentions of yanking the door closed, but the freshness of the air was like a breath of memory when she stepped closer. She was reminded of New York, suddenly, an apartment she'd once inhabited on Earth. All this hope of escape was reminding her of moments when she'd been alive. It was a rookie mistake, really.

With her hand on the long handle, she took a moment to lean just an inch or two outside to feel the frozen air, to inhale the coldness, thinking that one day soon she'd be out there in the unknown, hidden away where she could plant the Devil's Shoestring in some crooked hollow of a secret cloud.

Something solid slammed into the window and Bela jerked back. She felt the sensation of hot breath on her skin, snapping teeth just grazing her sleeve, and she stumbled back further.

A hellhound. It paced in front of the door, burning eyes fixated on her through the glass. It shouldn't be able to see her, not with the protection she had.

Her hand jumped to her throat, only to find that her necklace, and the seed inside, was gone.

The hellhound was snarling ferociously, kicking up snow.

"Hello," Anna said, appearing outside in a gleam of gold and red.

The second she bent to pet the hellhound, its growls turned into happy whimpers, and Bela watched with disgust as Anna managed to calm the beast, petting it easily until it rolled over to offer its belly to be scratched.

Anna left it there in the snow, coming into the shop, the door jingling as she entered.

"Are you all right?" she asked Bela, reaching out to brush her gloved hand over Bela's cold skin.

"Yes," Bela said, finally able to catch her breath. "Yes, I'm fine."

They both watched as the hellhound rolled upright to scratch its hindquarters.

"I know he's just an inbred monster trained to terrorize hellspawn," Anna said, some sort of feeling transforming her features in a rare moment of fondness. "But he's so cute."

Bela sent the hellhound a sceptical look through the glass and watched as a long tendril of drool overflowed out of its toothy mouth. The drool melted the snow at its feet.

"Thanks," she told Anna. She felt stupidly happy to see her. She wanted to stay and make nice, maybe revel in this sad crush she had as well as continue proving herself to be a good candidate for the position, but she had to find her locket. Preferably quickly, before anyone else found it.

"It's not safe for you to go outside," Anna told her. "I'm surprised you were standing so close to the door."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Anna looked like she wanted to say something else, but Bela only smiled tightly. "I have to go," she said and left before Anna could say anything else that might put Bela's existence at stake. She'd find a way to communicate with her later, but not here, in a room of soldiers.

Jo was in the back room again, standing near the staff lockers, where the sacks of coffee beans were piled high. She whirled when the door shut behind Bela.

Bela looked from her to the coffee bags to the lockers. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Of course not," Jo said, shrugging. "Just, you know, slacking off again."

Bela put off searching the room for her one and only hope of freedom to take a good look at Jo. "You have something—" she said, and stepped closer to brush at Jo's hair. Something white melted away quickly under her fingers. She frowned. "Was that— snow?"

Jo looked at her cooly. "Must have blown in through the front door while I was wiping tables."

That would make sense, except that Bela had been the only one cleaning near the doors.

"Here—" Jo said, and turned to show Bela her back, holding up her hair. "Do up my apron for me?"

"You're supposed to tie this first," Bela said, taking the two strings and knotting them into an easy bow. Her voice came out lighter than she'd meant, too fond. 

She'd remembered doing this once, tying up an apron for Jo when she'd visited her at that rundown bar her mother had owned. But once you become a demon, you didn't get to have much that was sentimental to you. Maybe Bela was never very sentimental to start with, she really couldn't say.

But insomuch as Bela could care about anything, she cared about Jo, and she wished she could take Jo with her when she left. Jo had always had an honorable quality, an honest something that was as innate as Bela's ability to lie through her teeth and feel not the least bit of remorse, and she'd always had a certain touching conviction that Bela was the same.

"There," Bela said quietly, as she pulled the loops of the bow tightly and Jo let her hair fall back, sighing. It would be a shame to leave her.

"Thanks," Jo said, turning. They were standing very close, Bela noticed, and Jo's eyes were searching when she said, "There actually is something I have to show you."

Bela couldn't have guessed that Jo took one side of the bag and gave a mighty tug, pulling it aside to expose a portion of floor that was no longer there. It took a long moment for Bela to understand what she was looking at, and when she understood, she wasn't sure she believed it.

It was a hole to the sky. The giant bags of beans were shoved to one side, to reveal the white hole in the floor, light glowing through what could only be clouds. Jo crouched over the hole, still flushed from what Bela now suspected was exertion. Exertion from digging.

"Did you do this?" Bela asked, giving the hole wide berth as she examined it. The floor to the coffee shop was five feet at least, and Jo had dug out a hole with a metal coffee scoop. 

"You said yourself you knew I was a hard worker."

Bela wasn't sure if she was more confused or impressed. "Jo, what are you going to do? Climb out and make a run for it?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Jo shrugged, a casual gesture in the light of what she'd done. 

"Yes," Bela said. "The barista position—"

Jo scoffed. "You think they'll let you go once they don't need you anymore? The job is a death sentence."

"I figured I'd make a run for it—" Bela started.

"In the middle of a camp of angels?"

"Yes!" Bela said, fighting to keep her voice down. It wouldn't do for any other demon or angel to come running.

"This," Jo said, gesturing to the hole. Her voice was imploring. "We're facing eternity in this cappuchino-scented prison, Bela. And I need to get out."

"It beats Hell."

Jo took her arm. "That doesn't mean we have to stay."

Bela considered the hole pulsating with light at her feet. It was unreal. An escape.

"You're— You're not going to turn me in, are you?" Jo said. 

Bela looked at her like she was an idiot, but the creaking of the door interrupted whatever she was about to say. Jo gently ducked under Bela's arm, stepping in front of the hole like she might be able to block it. The coffee scooper clattered onto the floor.

"Oh," Anna said from the doorway.

All Bela could think was, _Thank God_. Thank God it was Anna and not someone else. She knew Anna had been trying to tell her something, but that didn't mean that Anna could condone actual demon rebellion. Bela thought distantly as she looked at Anna's surprised face that she hadn't wanted to leave the shop anyway.

Anna stepped forward. "I just wanted to give you this." 

A chain dangled from her hand. Bela stepped forward, all else forgotten.

Anna put the necklace in her palm, and Bela hurried to pull it over her head and drop it under her shirt.

"It was in my pastry bag you handed me this morning. It must have come off when you bent over the pastry case—" Anna was saying, but Bela barely heard her, a dread at what could have happened, what still could happen, seeping through her.

"You opened it?" she asked. "The locket?"

Anna nodded. She knew.

"Not all angels are the same, you know," Anna told her, as if reading her thoughts. Or maybe Bela's fear of being sent back to the rack was written all over her face. 

In any case, it didn't sound like someone who was about to feed Bela to the dogs.

"What are you planning?" Anna asked, turning to Jo. "I assume this is your handiwork? Forgive me for intruding, but I've been trying to do something like this for quite some time."

Bela swallows, her suspicions confirmed.

"Really?" Jo said, gaping.

"Where does this even lead?" Bela asked Jo. "If we jump we'd die, right? Whatever that means, here."

Jo shook her head. "We're still over Earth, right? Just in a sort of Heaven-esque realm?" She looked to Anna, who nodded. "So it's possible to leave Heaven and travel to Earth."

"That's an interesting idea," Anna said.

Bela asked, "Do you think it will work?"

Anna touched her gently at the shoulder. "If angels can fall, why can't demons?"

"She has a point," Jo said. 

"I've been waiting for the opportunity to escape," Anna said. "But I'm under constant scrutiny from my peers." She smiled softly to herself. "I have something of a criminal history."

"Well if this doesn't just take the cake," Jo said. She looked overjoyed, if a little tentatively, but in ways that Bela hadn't seen for a long time.

Bela looked between the two of them, her maybe best friend and the angel who was well on the way to winning her heart. "Really? Are we really doing this?"

"I vote we do it now," Jo said. "Why wait?"

"I'd have to agree," Anna said.

Jo had the stupid courage to reach out and shake Anna's hand before tying her hair back in a ponytail and readying herself for what could mean a second death or something worse. 

Bela looked them both in the eye. This wasn't as crazy as it seemed. This could work.

Anna latched her helmet over her head. "It's now or never," she said. 

Jo looked to Bela, no trace of uncertainty on her face. She sat at the edge of the hole with her feet dangling over the edge. A gentle breeze in the clouds set her legs swaying.

"See you on the other side?" she asked.

"Do it," Bela said to Jo, then nodded to Anna. "I'm right behind you."

Jo dropped out of sight, and Bela removed her armor in efficient motions and piled it behind the coffee roaster. She was on the smaller side, and although she seemed frail, Bela could sense power coming off her skin.

"On the other side," Anna repeated, pressing Bela's hand, and Bela felt an all-over flush as Anna pressed a kiss to her lips and then disappeared through the clouds.

Bela considered what it would mean to jump on faith alone. That was more Jo's style than her own. She and Jo had been going for the same things but in two different ways, and she supposed they might as well work together on this.

"Guess at this point I have nothing to lose," she said, at which point Crowley burst in, dragging a sloshing mop bucket unceremoniously across the break room floor. 

When he saw Bela, he pulled up short, taking stock of the situation. "Well well well, if it isn't young Bela. I had your soul once, all because you wanted to run away then, too."

"Crowley," Bela spat, eyes darting back to the hole.

He caught her wrist before she could jump. "Who'd you talk into helping you? You couldn't have done this alone, of that much I'm certain."

Bela ground her teeth. "What does it matter who helped me? I know you want out as much as I do. You have to understand, I know you do. Just let me go."

"Fine." Crowley released her, and took a step back to his mop and bucket with the air of one washing his hands of the situation. "I'm not the boss anymore, after all. I'm just the cleaner. Tell that Anna bird I'll take care of the puppy. I know he's her favorite."

Bela didn't know if it was a threat or an actual request. And she couldn't find it in herself to thank him. But she did experience a moment's relief, and a thrill of hope when she glanced back to the hole in the floor. Moments of hope were few and far between, and she resolved to take this one in both hands.

"Fly, little demon," Crowley said, and Bela closed her eyes, and fell.


End file.
